The CoExistance Arc
by madwriter223 -TF
Summary: -UPDATED 28.11.12- The Decepticons and Autobots. Together. Oh, boy. / AU, mostly humor. Some romanse, definitely slash, and sparklings. Written in Katsuko's 'TC as SIC' AU.
1. The End

**The End**

Megatron stood over the edge of a cliff, admiring the vast expanse of the ocean and the sky. The two blues mixed together the further he looked, making it nearly impossible to discern between one and the other.

Ah, how wonderful it was to have a few kliks to himself. To just stand, and not have to think about anything for a change. Did wonders to the CPU.

A thud behind him made him abandon the view, and he turned around. Just in time to catch a glimpse of the four mechs that had depositioned their load at the feet of the outcrop, then turned to hastily leave.

"Ah, Optimus. So nice of you to join me."

Prime lifted his helm, throwing a disbelieving glare at the other. "It was rather difficult for me not to attend, considering you had your troops kidnap me."

Megatron came closer. "I wanted to make certain you came. After all, we all know how busy a schedule you have."

"Yes, but it's consisting mostly of entries like 'Stop Megatron's newest plan' and 'Drink Energon'."

A silver brow-panel twitched at the last part. "And that would be the topic of our discussion."

Optimus blinked. "What discussion?"

"The one we will be having as soon as-" A sound of jet engine coming closer, followed by a thud. "Ah, Prowl. Glad you could make it."

Thundercracker, who had landed next to his leader, smirked at the stasis-cuffed Datsun. "We had to make a little stop on the way. He seemed strangely uncooperative."

A snort.

Prowl growled. "To what purpose did you bring us here?" His servos twitched, wishing he had his gun right now. Or at least a rock he could throw.

"As I have been informed right before your... arrival, Megatron wishes to have a discussion with us." Prime informed his SIC, glancing him over in search of damages from his impromptu 'flight' with the Air Commander.

"A what?"

"I think the question should be 'About what?'." Both Autobots turned their attention back to the Decepticon Overlord. Who was staring at them with the oddest expression of wicked glee they had seen for a while.

Noticing their stares, Thundercracker glanced at his leader, then promptly rolled his optics heavenward with a sigh. "You'll have to give him a moment."

"What is he doing?"

"My guess would be he's basking in the sight of you two tied at his peds."

Prowl blinked. "That's reassuring."

"Old habits die hard, and all that."

"Indeed."

Optimus raised an optic-ridge at the interaction, but decided not to intervene. It was so amusing sometimes to watch the two SICs. They were more alike than they liked to think.

After a few kliks, Megatron shook his head, focusing back on his guests. "Where were we?"

"The discussion?" Prime prompted, cutting in before his SIC could say something insulting.

"Ah, yes." The silver mech shared a glanced with the seeker, then sighed, his 'pleasant' smile melting into a serious expression. "I want to discuss a truce."

Thundercracker took the pause that followed to record the expressions of absolute _shock/disbelief/"Did I hear that right?!"_ on the Autobots facial-plates. Warp was gonna love it.

Prowl was the first to gather his thoughts enough to utter them. "You expect us to believe that you want a truce."

"Well, not really a truce." Megatron corrected himself. "More like a permanent truce."

Thundercracker smirked, recording these expressions as well. The Autobots sure were amusing.

"A permanent truce?" Optimus repeated after a moment. It sounded almost too good to be true. "Why, Megatron? Why now?"

The Overlord scowled at the mention of the reason. Still, it was too soon to be revealing weaknesses to the enemy. And the enemy they will remain till he got an answer to a question. "Will you take part in the 'discussion' or not?"

"Of course we will." Optimus smiled behind his mask. He would always give peace a chance, it was in his programming.

Apparently, it wasn't in Prowl's though. "Sir, I must object. It could be a trick."

"Noted. Shall we proceed?"

"Maybe they'd uncuff us first?" The Datsun grumbled.

Megatron blinked, staring at them in that disturbing way again.

Thundercracker sighed. "Give him a moment."


	2. First Contact

**First Contact**

Blue optics widened, ventilation system stopping briefly, then resumed working furiously, whole frame snapping to rigid tension.

A pretty normal reaction for a Red Alert witnessing a group of five Decepticons entering the Ark.

"SECURITY BREACH!! SECURITY BREA~CH!!" His helm nods flashed madly, and with a quick jerky movement, his gun was out and trained on the intruders.

Or at least that what he assumed they were.

"Stand down, Red Alert!" Optimus Prime ordered, taking a step forward. "The Decepticons are our guests now."

"What? You're working with then now?!"

"No, we have a truce."

"It's a trick! As soon as we let them in, they're gonna rip out our Sparks!"

"Red A-"

"And EAT them!"

Blink. "I don't think Sparks can be eaten."

"Never underestimate the enemy!"

Megatron rolled his optics. "Oh, for Primus' sake."

The rifle was aimed straight at him. "You won't get me, you-"

An unexpected shot was fired by the Decepticon scientist, and time seemed to stop. Red Alert froze mid-movement, his facial plates going slack. The other Autobots stared from him to the seeker, gaping in shock. Then they all started yelling – Prowl was checking the Security Director for damage, Ironhide was unsubspacing his own guns, while Prime glared at the Decepticons in disappointment. Ratchet waved a wrench in one servo and a mediscanner in the other, running it over Red's frame. The Twins tried to get past House to attack and Cliffjumper snarled and tried to get past Prime to get to the much bigger enemies.

And because he couldn't whistle, Starscream let out a high-frequency shriek to get the 'bots ti STFU.

They did.

The seeker leveled a cool reproachful look at them all, then leaned to the side. He peaked around Prime's side to look Red Alert straight in the optics, and raised an optic-ridge.

"Are you calm now?"

Red blinked. "Yes?" he answered in a soft, uncertain yet tranquil tone.

"Good. Would you like me to build you a nullray so you can zap yourself from time to time?"

Another slow blink. "Yes."

"Okay."

The two nodded at each other, then the Security Director turned on his ped and calmly walked away.

The Autobots stared. The Decepticons looked amused. The seekers looked smug. Starscream looked bored.

"May we continue with the negotiations now?" He asked, staring up at his leader.

Megatron glanced from him to Prime.

Optimus cleared his vocalizer. "Right, of course. This way then."


	3. Talking Things Over

AN: This is the actual CHAPTER THREE. I forgot I hadn't wrote it yet when I was uploading the previous parts. My bad.

**Talking Things Over**

"No, you are not going to come near my patient with your wrenches and your curses. They get enough of that during meals from each other."

"Well, what do you expect me to do, allow them to be treated by a Constructicon whose favorite activity is botching up repairs of a Space Bridge?"

"For your information, my team has not botched up one repair, and I am a qualified medic, while rumor has that you have trouble getting bots to get their physicals thanks to your _sunny_ disposition."

"Why you- My disposition has nothing to do with that!"

Starscream cocked his head as he watched the two CMOs practically snarling into each others' facial plates. He leaned slightly towards his trineleader, and murmured "Ten credits on Hook." in seekercant.

TC glanced at him, at the two medics, then answered. "Fifteen on Ratchet, he's got his wrenches with him."

"You're on. And I hope you remember that nifty trick Hook does with his teeth when he's feeling cornered."

"Damn, forgot about that."

"Too late."

"Mmm."

Megatron cocked his head to level a look of irritation at the two seekers, then powered up his plasma cannon.

At the sound, Hook immediately sat down and shut up, though he did continue glaring at the Autobot.

Megatron smirked smugly at Prime and turned his weapon back off.

"I insist on Decepticons being repaired only by the Constructicons. I think Hook will agree to consult in the event a case proves too difficult for his team to handle alone, correct?"

Hook started glaring at his leader.

"That's a yes, believe me."

Optimus blinked, then motioned for Prowl to note that down. "Alright, medical care is agreed upon with no casualties. Why don't we go on to the next point of the negatiations?"

"Which would be?"

"We hold optional educational classes during free periods, why not that?" Perceptor offered.

"That would by me." Starscream raised his servo slightly.

The Autobot scientist blinked at him. "I wasn't aware you held classes in the Nemesis."

"I hadn't intended to, but some of the soldiers asked me to, so I agreed. Now, I believe my curriculum should continue so as not to confuse them, though I am willing to encourage participation in classes offered here, though I would like to look through the topics beforehand."

"That should be fine. I'll encourage some of our troops too, hopefully mixed participation will help alleviate possible behavioural problems."

"I doubt Autobots will be interested in my topics, but they are welcome to attend."

"Why, you worried no one'll want to go to your classes on treachery?" Ironhide sneered at the seeker.

"I don't hold classes for that, I prefer live demonstrations and happenings. Wanna see my impression of a knife stabbed into someone's back? You can be the back."

"Enough, you two." Optimus interjected, laying a calming servo on Ironhide's shoulder.

"What kind of a curriculum have you been working with?" Perceptor asked then.

"Mostly the basics, both Cybertronian and Terran alphabet. Some comprehension development classes, oh, and the Cassetticon Twins hold a series of classes on mechanical crafts that's been very successful."

Several blinks. "I'm sorry, the alphabet?"

"Yes. Keep in mind most of our troops were originally meant to work or fight in the arena, and nothing else. Their primary education is severely lacking, especially in reading and writing, but they have made excellent progress so far."

Prowl and Optimus stared at the two in shock, while Ironhide wondered if making fun of _that_ would be too cruel or would it get him a nullray in the face.

Perceptor and Wheeljack, however, concentrated on the topic.

"In this situation I agree that you should continue your curriculum uninterrupted. Though I feel we could help with some of the classes."

"Do you have any experience?"

"Well, Wheeljack has had tremendous success with our sparklings, and-"

"Perceptor!"

"Yes, Ironhide, what is it?"

"They don't need to know about that!"

"Why not?"

"Statement: incorrect." Soundwave said, and the Autobots finally noticed that though Megatron was staring at the far wall in disinterest, the other Decepticons' attention was fully fixed on them.

Ironhide growled. "See, they're just waiting for us to reveal the truth so they can use it against us!"

"As in steal your sparklings?" Thundercracker raised an optic ridge.

"Why should we? We have enough to deal with with our own." Hook muttered.

"...you have sparklings?"

"Yes, though the exact number will remain classified till Big Red there won't get over himself and stop bitching about everything."

Megatron rolled his optics. "To keep matters straight, with the exception of me, all of them are Creators."

"Yes, and I feel I speak for the whole group when I say we object to having our sparklings taught by someone who can't conduct one experiment without it blowing in his face."

"Literally, from what we heard."

"Fact: repeatedly observed also."

"Hey! I resent that, I'm very careful with the little ones!"

"Nonetheless," Megatron interjected before yet another fight could break out. "I think it's best to keep classes divided between the two factions, with Starscream as the primary tutor of both our troops and sparklings."

Optimus shook his head. "With the troops, I agree, but dividing the sparklings would only create a rift between them."

"No offense, but I'm not keen on letting Walking Bomb over there near our kids. Especially considering one of ours creates bombs out of everything as a hobby, and his primary mode of transportation is still mostly crawling or being carried around."

"He's a sparkling?"

"I'm sure he'll grow out of it."

"I'm pretty sure the brat does that on purpose."

Thundercracker shifted his wings proudly. "He's a genius."

"A genius baby Decepticon that makes bombs?" Ironhide's disbelief was obvious.

"You won't be allowed near him either, Mr. My Guns Are Bigger Than Yours."

"Why you-"

"This is ridiculous. If this was my class, I would've long since decided to treat you as one of the age you are displaying at the moment and put you in time out."

"And I advice you to turn off your guns right now. I assure you my guns are not nullrays."

And at this moment the argument achieved lift off once again, all the mechs gathered in the room standing up, and yelling/shouting/threatening each other with the passion of frequent visitors of the conflict.

In the middle of the chaos, the two leader contemplated each other with blank looks.

"This is going well."

"How can you tell?"

"No one's dead."

"True." A pause. "Should we take a break?"

"That or do as Starscream said and put them all in time out."

"There is that."


	4. Cleanliness: Important

**Cleanliness: Important**

"And here we have the communal washracks." Prowl said, gesturing towards the door on his right as they opened. "Any questions about the rules of conduct or such?"

He eyed the Decepticon troops gathered before him as they mulled over their thoughts. So far, on each stop of the 'tour of the Ark' he had been bombarded with questions such as 'Can we do this? Can we do that? Can we blow something up here? What are the rules? Can we have a brawl in the middle of the corridor/rec room/ in the entrance?' etc. It was obvious the Decepticon behavior rule-book was a lot different from the Autobots', hence the questions, but Prowl had to feel glad his former enemies were trying at least. Apparently the peace was important to them.

He waited patiently for the assembled mechs to start, folding his arms behind his back.

Thundercracker, who had been eying the entrance to the washracks with a rather peculiar expression, took a step closer to the other SIC. "You have standard cleansing fluid?"

Prowl shook his helm. "Not exactly. Due to the planet's environment one of our scientists' created a special mix. It now has the added benefit of dispelling earthian bacteria and micro-organisms."

"Do you know which compounds he used to achieve that effect?" Starscream asked, optics flashing with curiosity.

"Unfortunately no. You are welcome to broach the subject with Perceptor."

"Is the fluid heated?" A purple servo rose, waving to get his attention.

Prowl blinked at the odd question. Now that he thought about it, when had all the seekers managed to cram themselves to the front of the group? "Yes, of course. The temperature is adjustabLE!!" He managed to contain the unbecoming squeak of surprise as a large arm suddenly grabbed hold of him, jerking him off his peds and crushing him to a large chassis. He barely had time to blink before every seeker in the hallway literally run into the washracks, chirps and trills of excitement filling the air.

When the last of the flyers had disappeared inside, Motormaster placed the Datsun back onto his peds, muttering a "If you mention heated cleansing fluid to seekers, yah gotta move out of the way." as he took a step back, his gestalt agreeing with nods.

Prowl said the only thing he could think of. "Oh." he cleared his vocalizer. "I'll try to remember that."

Suddenly Thundercracker appeared in the entrance, giving a sharp whistle to catch his troops attention. "We'll end the tour here for today. I want you to divide yourselves into twos or threes, the gestalt-teams stay together – we'll be sharing quarters. Make me a list of who bunks with who. But first, I want all of you to go to the med bay for debugging and virus scans, no exceptions. We'll rendezvous in front of the entrance in two joors."

"They've got polishing cloths in here!!" Came a joyous shout from inside the washracks.

"Make that three. Dismissed." That taken care off, the blue SIC turned on his thruster and joined his fellow-seekers, the door sliding shut behind him.

Prowl blinked in astonishment. Did that just happen?

After a moment, he became aware of the stares directed at his back, and turned around. "Yes?"

"Show us the way to the med bay again."

"We kinda forgot where it is."

Prowl resisted the urge to sigh. "Alright. Follow me."

*~*~*~*

"Ah, Prowl." Optimus smiled at him as he entered the briefing room, placing the pad he had been studying to the side. "And how are our guests?"

The SIC tried not to let his exasperation show, especially while Megatron was staring at him with cold optics. "Most of them are in the med bay, getting virus-scans."

"Most of them?"

Prowl could swear the telepath sitting on Megatron's left was snickering at him. "The seekers appear to have taken the washracks hostage."

Prime blinked in surprise. "They what?"

"Seekers: obsessed with cleanliness." Soundwave informed them.

Megatron smirked in amusement. "Indeed they are. They would shoot Primus himself if he stood on their way to a polishing cloth."

"Oh."


	5. Seriously?

**Seriously?**

Optimus knew that the first thing the newly united Cybertronians had to do was get to know each other. With most of the soldiers, that had already been accomplished, mostly on the battlefield.

So, it was decided that their sparklings and younglings needed to meet.

Ironhide had not been happy with that decision. Not happy at all, and quite vocal about it as well, but he was quite thoroughly ignored.

So now Optimus stood in a specially designed room in the Arc. Normally, it served as a holding pen for the little ones when their Creators were working, but he was more than sure it would do just as nicely for the introductions.

Megatron, standing by the Autobots side, was not so sure. "Does it have to be so... colorful?"

"Well. Perceptor assures me that a variety of stimuli helps the sparklings mental processors to develop."

Megatron huffed.

"You don't have a room for them, then?"

"Don't be daft, Prime. Of course we have a room. The problem is they won't stay put in it."

"...maybe some locks would do the trick."

Megatron turned his helm, and contemplated his ex-nemesis like he couldn't decide if blasting his helm off would be beneficial or not.

Thankfully, Optimus' head was saved by the arrival of the first visitors.

"Ah, Ratchet, so good you could come."

"Yeah, yeah. Like I was gonna leave my kid alone here. No offense, but I don't trust those kids of yours."

"Smart decision."

"Ratchet, please."

"Fine." He gestured to the youngling standing next to him. "This is my and Wheeljack's kid, Fix-It."

Megatron stared. "Fix-It? Seriously?"

The Medic frowned. "What?"

Megatron shook his head, and snorted under his intake.

The doors swished open again, and the form of the Decepticon SIC walked in, three little bodies attached to his armor.

"Thundercracker." Megatron nodded at him.

"You're just in time." Optimus smiled, and gently pressed the fingers of one hand to the top of the youngling's helm. "This is Fix-it, Ratchet's Creation."

All four fliers titled their heads to the side. "Seriously?" the mech asked, and Ratchet bristled.

"What?"

The seeker shrugged, and kneeled down, the three sparklings crawling off of him. "Jetstorm, Sonar, and Runway." he said, pointing at each one, then stood, and moved to stand next to his leader.

The three little ones looked after him, then turned their optics to stare at the Autobots.

Little Sonar, by far the tiniest sparkling ever produced (he even beat his Carrier in this aspect) smiled suddenly, and said the following words. "Big fraggers, ain't yah?"

Ratchet made an odd chocking sound. Optimus froze, blinking a few times. Megatron rolled his optics. Thundercracker turned his off with a pained expression.

An excellent start, so far.

*~*

Next to arrive was Soundwave, along with his six Cassettes. After the initial shock and a short explanation ("Assumption: Cassettes being drones: Faulty."), the six joined the four already playing.

It seemed to be going well, until Fix-It introduced himself.

Optimus placed a calming servo on Ratchet's arm when "Seriously?" once again sounded in the room.

"I'm sure they mean no offense"

"I hear that again, and I swear, Optimus-"

"Ratchet. The little ones need to know that we accept the Decepticons before they can form a connection with them. You know how Creations always follow the Creator's will."

Megatron aimed a Look at the other leader, while Thundercracker snorted. Soundwave just looked blank.

The doors opened, and a certain flying Dinobot walked in, followed by Hound, two sparklings in tow.

"Hey, guys. Look who I found hiding in the corridor." The scout said cheerfully, then marched over to the playing little ones, placing his own among them and introducing him.

Swoop fidgeted, cradling their Dinobitlet in his servos. Optimus gave him a reassuring smile, and nudged him forward slightly. "Why don't you put him down, so he can go play?"

Ratchet smirked at the Decepticons. "Be careful though. He bites."

"We're used to it." Came the rather blank reply.

*~*

It appeared to be going well. The younglings seemed to be enjoying each others' company, and the Creators were more or less getting along. There was a slight hitch when Sunstreaker came with his own, but a few calming words from Optimus, and a threatening glare from Megatron helped to keep the yellow Twin and Thundercracker from having a brawl.

And finally, the last to arrive was Hook + offspring.

"Sorry we're late. Scavenger was kinda anxious to let him go."

"That's quite alright." Optimus smiled a greeting at the youngling. "Is Scavenger your other Creator?"

"He's mine and my gestalt's." Hook answered, and marched the kid to the other sparklings, Ratchet following after him to help introduce the kid.

The Autobot leader blinked at the news, then turned to the Decepticons. "Is that even possible?"

Megatron's brow plate twitched. "There are some things better left unknown, Prime."

Meanwhile, the introduction came to a rather obvious point.

"And this is Fix-It."

Hook blinked, and stared at the Medic. "Seriously?"

Ratchet growled, and threw his hands upwards, fed up like you wouldn't believe it. "What?! What is wrong with 'Fix-It'?! Each one of you damn 'Cons is all 'seriously?' about it, and I'm this close to throwing my entire Sickbay at all of your helms!"

Hook gave him a blank look, then ignored him, instead turning to the two younglings.

"Fix-It, Smash-It. Smash-It, Fix-It." He said, gesturing between the two.

The younglings blinked, and stared at each other, while Ratchet gaped.

"Smash-It? Seriously?"

.

.

.

*~*

Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait, I got kinda stuck in the Star Trek Fandom. I assure you this story is not dead. At least not yet it's not. ^__^'


	6. A Match Made In the Pit

**A Match Made In the Pit**

He stared at this... new thing. It didn't look like his brothers, though it did have wings. Weird wings, not like his own. And it was shaped weirdly. Oh, sure it had legs and arms, but all the rest? Weird.

He crawled closer, peering curiously at this new thing. Then he promptly fell onto his bottom, when very sharp teeth snapped right in front of his face.

He blinked several times, then leaned closer, staring at the teeth.

Whoa! Those were big and sharp! They could probably chew through anything! Maybe even Megatron's leg! Then the Overlord would have no choice, but to stay put and play with the seekerlet.

The teeth snapped at his one more time, and he snarled, snapping his own teeth at the thing. A beat later, the other's body jumped onto him.

They scratched and bit at each other as they rolled around on the floor, kliks, squicks and chirps filling the air. When they finally rolled apart, he jumped to his peds, and walked over to the thing, outstretching one servo.

Friends?

The servo was taken, and the weird thing got up onto its own peds.

Friends.

Two devilish grins, and the two sparklings made their way out of the room in search for a new game.

To you, dear readers, I will explain what just happened: Runway, the Escape Artists Seekerlet, has just befriended Sweeplock, the Dinobitlet.

Let us all take this moment to feel fear.

*~*~*

Starscream glanced up when he heard knocking. He glanced at Sonar and Jetstorm to make sure it hadn't woken him, then walked over to the door, palming the control to open it.

"Yes?

Blitzwing stood on the other side, staring at him with a blank/bored/kill-me-now expression. He lifted one ped, the little form attached to it waving at its Creator.

"This is yours." It wasn't a question.

Starscream shook his head with a fond sigh. "Yes, thank you. Let go, Runway, c'mon." He gently pried the seekerlet off, then cradled him against his chassis.

Blitzwing nodded. "Great. I would also like to inform you he's found a new friend."

"A new-" A servo was lifted, another small form dangling from where it was bitting into the plating, big blue optics blinking up at the seeker. "Oh."

"Yeah." A pause. "Get him off."

Starscream nodded, and got the little one off with basically a few touches, having had more than enough practice.

"What's his name?" the seeker asked, cradling the two sparklings in his arms, smiling down at them.

Blitzwing, already half-way down the corridor, yelled over his shoulder. "Dentals of Doom, for all I care."

.

.

.

*~*

Remember the Bolts and Screws Story? Remember how Grimmlock and Swoop had a Dinobitlet together? Well, his name's Sweeplock, and he's here to stay. XD


	7. Maintenance Day

A/N: Oh look, I'm still alive. Sorry for the long wait, but I've had my hands full with Real Life and other fandoms. To those that still wait, THANK YOU!

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**Maintenance Day**

Primus, how Ratchet _hated_ maintenance day. How Ratchet _loathed_ maintenance day. How he positively _despised_ maintenance day. How... you get the picture.

And the reason for that state of processor? Because, with the exception of about five bots, all from High Command so they had to set an example, every other Autobot decided maintenance day was code for hide-from-Ratchet-as-long-as-physically-possible day.

Honestly, are there any human medics who have to chase each and every one of their patients, then forcefully drag them back to his Sickbay. Most often drag them kicking and screaming.

Primus, and he wasn't even _doing_ anything! Not this cycle, at least. Maintenance day was for check ups and progress check of all or any previous damages.

Like sparklings, the lot of them. Like little, deranged, processor damaged sparklings set on annoying the slag out of him. And bots wondered why he was 'grumpy'.

With a heavy sigh, Ratchet checked if he had everything ready. Net, check. Grappling hooks, check. Hypos with paralising agents, check. Magnetic trap, check. A wide assortment of wrenches to throw, check.

Yup. He was ready to start maintenance day. Time to hunt down his patients.

He palmed the door control, and stepped out onto the corridor. Then was promptly thrown backwards by stampeding Insecticons.

"Sorry, sorry!" one yelled at him, but neither paused. Ratchet narrowed his optics, and looked after them, intending to have some choice words with those spark-damned... A disbelieving blink.

What. The. Slag.

When the Decepticons had moved into the Ark, Prime had ordered for the spare storage area next to Sickbay be converted into Repairbay, the Decepticon equivalent of Sickbay. And now, running all through the corridor, was a long line of Decepticons. Some were talking, some were fighting, some even had bookfiles. A long line of Decepticons. Waiting. In front of Repairbay.

While he stared, the Insecticons went all the way to the end of the line, then took their own place, scuffling among each other for being first.

"What's going on here?" he asked, coming closer to the beginning of the line.

The 'Cons closest to him blinked in confusion. "It's maintenance day." Like it explained everything.

It really didn't. All these 'Cons were waiting in _line_ in front of Repairbay because it was _maintenance day_? How was that possible?

"You... you all... are here for maintenance check?" he asked, just to clarify, because his processor was seriously failing to grasp the concept of willing patients that aren't offline or in stasis.

"Well, yeah." One of the 'Cons scratched his neck. "We've known about it for several cycles now."

"And you all just came here... without any prompting?"

The 'Cons looked at each other, thoroughly confused. "Yes?"

"_Why_?"

"'Cause Hook says our health is the only thing we really own, so it's a pile of slag not to take care of it."

Ratchet rubbed at his optics. "And if you don't come in today for maintenance?"

"Hook says he's not a service bot, and if we don't come on the scheduled day, we'll have to deal with out glitches till the next maintenance day or till we're damaged." The other 'Cons nodded in agreement.

Amazing. Purely amazing. And ironic – the 'Cons were more concerned with their healths than the Autobots! The bad guys were better patients than the good guys!

Oh, the Autobots were gonna remember this particular maintenance day for solar cycles to come!

Just then, the doors opened, and Bonecrusher lumbered out, Hook walking behind him.

"Next!" he called, and a seeker Ratchet didn't know the name of darted inside. Hook was just about to go back inside, when he noticed Ratchet.

"Something we can do for you?" he asked sarcastically, and Ratchet scowled in humiliation.

"Yeah. Lend me some of your patients, cause I need some help catching mine." The 'Brute force authorized' was clear in his tone.


	8. Having Fun, Decepticon Style

AN: Yeah, we all knew this was coming.

**Having Fun, Decepticon Style**

No one really knew how it happened. Well, okay, that's a lie. Thrust had been arguing with Skywarp, who pushed him a little too hard, and the conehead stumbled backwards, bumping into Dead End. Dean End spilled his Energon, and threw himself at Thrust, however he missed, and landed a solid punch on Sideswipe. Before the red twin could react, Sunstreaker was already on the Decepticon, all protective and vicious like. Dead End overbalanced due to the extra weight, and toppled over a table were both 'Cons and 'Bots sat.

After that it was all a blur, however it was needless to say the Rec Room transformed into one giant pile of mechs beating the slag out of each other. Servos, pedes, dentals, and claws were all in use, as well as growling, snarling, and insults.

This was the sight Optimus Prime and Megatron stood in front of, contemplating the pile of mechs pummeling each other.

Well, Optimus was contemplating more than Megatron, because the Overlord was more than used to sights like this. Truth be told, he missed the sounds of a lively army. The Autobots were far too boring in the brawling department. There were hardly any screeches of outrage or yells of death threats to inform the Overlord his army was still alive and kicking. The Autobots apparently preferred to have peace and quiet in their base.

Maybe Megatron should seriously consider removing the Nemesis from the bottom of the ocean. They could set their old home next to the Arc, and the Decepticons could do what they do, and the Autobots could have their slagging peace and quiet.

Then again, Starscream's Energon Converter gathered the energy for converting from water currents, so it'd be useless on the surface. He'd have to have a meeting with his CSO about that.

As Megatron mused, Optimus quite frankly gaped. Pit, the expression was almost visible through his battle mask. Oh sure, a brawl happened once in a while even amongst them, but never to this scale. This... this looked worse than some of the battles the two factions had had in the past.

Suddenly, a little blue something was launched from the pile, heading straight at him. Before it connected with his chest plates, Megatron reached out, and caught it with one servo, optics barely even looking away from his musings.

Frenzy squawked when he was caught, and immediately started snarling to be let go, put him down, he was gonna slag them _all_!

Megatron snorted, and threw the Cassetticon back onto the pile, the little blue frame disappearing almost instantly, intent on doing some damage.

Optimus stared at the Overlord. "You just let him go?"

Megatron shrugged. Who was he to deny a mech his fun?

"He could get hurt!"

"Prime, he's been taking part in our battles since Soundwave joined. He knows how to cause enough damage to down a mech."

Well, Prime couldn't exactly argue with that.

Before he could say something else on the matter, a screaming Perceptor (just so you know, he was screaming "_I don't want to, I don't want to_!", and not battle cries) was lifted from the pile, and set on his pedes near the entrance.

"Fine, be that way!" The Decepticon who had carried the little scientist snarled, then turned on his heel, and jumped back into the fray of flying fists.

Perceptor blinked, then hurried to get out to safery, preferably as far from this room as possible, however he stopped when Prime called after him.

"Are you alright?" The Autobot leader asked, looking his CSO over.

Perceptor blinked, then run a quick self-diagnosis. "I'm... I'm fine." He blinked again. "Now that I think about it, I don't believe I was hit once."

Megatron scoffed. "Of course not. We're warriors, not retro-beasts. We know when not to hit somemech."

"But I was hurt plenty of times during battles." Perceptor countered.

"Ah, but this is not a battle, is it?"

"It's not?"

"Of course not. This is for _fun_." Megatron dead-panned, then turned back to watching the carnage.

Well, this time even the battle mask wasn't able to hide Optimus gaping.

After a moment, he managed to compose himself enough to clear his vocalizer. "Maybe it's enough... fun... for now."

Megatron shrugged again. "If you want." He took a large intake, and bellowed. "ENOUGH!"

The result was instantaneous – all 'Cons froze in their positions, going so far as to grab the Autobots, and keep them still as well. All optics turned to the two leaders, and eerie silence filled what was left of the Rec Room.

Megatron turned to Prime, motioning for him to say what he wanted.

Prime cleared his vocalizer again. "Who started this?"

There was a moment of quiet contemplation.

"We weren't exactly paying attention, Sir." one of the minicons said.

Prime sighed. "Alright. Any injuries?" Considering there wasn't a mech without at least one dent, at the least, yes, it was a stupid question.

Thankfully, Prime realized that without anyone having to point that out. "Any serious injuries, I mean."

"I hurt my arm!" one of the 'Cons called.

"Well, how much did you hurt it?"

In response, a servo was lifted up. A servo that had been ripped off at the shoulder joint.

Prime stared incredulously. "And you still _fought_?"

"I was using it as a club."

"He was!"

Primus, how exactly did they manage to defeat the Decepticons so many times if _this_ was _fun_ to them?

Megatron, noticing Prime's processor was overloading a little with this side of the 'Cons, took charge. "Any Constructicons in there?"

Two servos and helms rose.

"Excellent. Scavenger, you do triage on who needs immediate repairs. Handy over there can go to Hook right now. Scrapper, do a sweep of the room, and check how badly was the structure damaged, and what to do to repair it. The rest of you – clean up this mess."

"Yes, Lord Megatron!" The 'Cons cried, and set to work.

"Fine." The Autobots grumbled, but went to help.

A moment later, a dented Ravage limped out of the room. He was holding Frenzy in his dentals by the scruff of his neck plates, his tail wrapped around Rumble's servo, the red Cassetticon cradling his right pile driver to his chest plates. Ravage dragged both twins out of the Rec Room, and all three headed to the RepairBay.

"See, Prime? He's okay."

The two leaders watched them go, then Megatron turned on his pede and left, content in the knowledge that his orders were going to be followed. On second thought, he turned around and grabbed Optimus by the arm, pulling him along.

No need for Prime to lose his reputation of being an always-perfectly-composed-leader by gaping like that.


	9. Sparkling Alert

**Sparkling Alert**

To ensure the sparklings of both factions would be on good terms, it was decided that the young ones should all attend the Ark's DayCare. In the specially designed room, the same one they met in in fact, the little ones were to interact and play together, learning to live together in harmony.

And yes, it was the Autobots' bright idea. Another bright idea of theirs was that the caretakers in the DayCare would be only Autobots. The phrase "No offense, but we don't trust you with our kids." was used more than once. So, by general unvoiced consensus, the Decepticons agreed to leave the sparklings with their ex-enemies.

The consensus was basically 'If they want to suffer, let them.' The Autobots didn't really know the 'Con sparklings, after all.

.

At first, all was going well. The little ones played nicely with each other, no one was bullying anyone. The only problem was with Smash-It. The moment Scavenger had left the room, the youngling had sat himself against the wall, and then proceeded to take apart some kind of device. When he finished, he put it back together, only to take it apart again. When asked, he said it was Constructicon training.

If anyone tried to get the damn thing away from him, he'd stare like he wanted to take the mech apart, and _not_ put him back together.

Out of the Cassetticons, only RatBat was present. He was the youngest, thus he was the only one who'd truly enjoy playing with other sparklings. Though he much preferred having races. With Jetstorm. In the air. And because the Autobots hadn't thought to include a flier among the caretakers, the ground pounders had to jump real high in order to catch those two.

Runway (will surprises never cease) did not sharpen his dentals on Autobots pedes too much. Apparently, they did not taste as good as 'Con plating. He sulked for a little bit upon discovering this, but the caretakers quickly cheered him up by letting him play with his new best friend, Sweeplock. No caretaker noticed the odd way Runway kept eying the closed doors.

The Autobot sparklings were their usual rambunctious bunch. They played, they scuffled playfully, they cheered when a new airborne race broke out. At one point, Fix-It went to join Smash-It in the endless cycle of take apart-put together. The 'Con youngling eventually allowed the 'Bot youngling to help a little.

The biggest surprise of all was little Sonar. Like his Creator many stellar cycles ago, he insisted on sitting by himself in a corner, and staring at everything and everyone around him. If the caretakers tried to talk him into a game or other activity, the sparkling, barely half the size of his brothers, would then show them how many swear words he knew. And he knew a lot of those.

After the fifth "Go the frag away, you retro-rabbit's aft.", the Autobots decided it would be best to just leave the kid alone.

After all, the Autobot didn't quite know how to take care of little 'Cons. Their sparklings were good little ones. They listened to the adults, they obeyed the rules, they knew there were some words they weren't allowed to use. Not 'Con sparklings though. The only rule they had been taught was 'Don't offline anyone.' And Autobots couldn't really get it through to their processors that 'Con sparklings needed a little something else in their everycycle care. Maximum security on the door, for one thing.

However, the Autobots wouldn't be able to learn that yet. After all, all the little 'Cons had been restraining themselves, as their Creators had asked them to. They could behave when they wanted to, after all.

Give them a moment, though.

.

"Hey! How's the 'sitting gig going?"

The two caretakers looked a little frazzled. The reason for this was because some time ago Runway and Jetstorm had a tiny disagreement, and, like all siblings, they decided to settle it through violence. It may have escalated a little, and when the caretakers had finally separated the two, half of the room was in shambles, toys were scattered everywhere (some melted down by tiny thrusters), all the 'Bot sparklings were crying their optics out, and the 'Con sparklings were pumped with excited energy.

"What do you think?" Axel asked, glaring tiredly at the newcomer.

"Leave him alone." Springer muttered, vents huffing from exertion. He placed the last sparkling into the large pen in the undamaged corner of the room, then wiped at his brow-plates. "Hey, 'Jumper."

"I see the kids are pretty lively." Understatement of the solar cycle.

"You could say that. Two seekerlets had an argument."

Cliffjumper blinked. "Sparklings did all this?"

"Eh, it's not so bad. Not even close to that brawl we had."

Cliffjumper nodded slowly. "Need any help?"

Axel blinked thoughtfully. "You know... could you keep the sparklings entertained while we clean up this mess?"

The minibot shook his head quickly. "I don't know a thing about kids!"

"Eh, you'll do fine." Springer said encouragingly. "Just show off a few of your moves, or tell them one of those bragging stories of yours."

"I don't know..."

"Seriously, 'Jumper. They're calm, and in the pen. You don't even have to touch any of them." Springer patted one red shoulder. "What could go wrong?"

At that phrase, the 'Cons would be grabbing the little ones and quickly evacuating the premises. But, once again, no adult 'Con was present.

"Alright, fine." Cliffjumper agreed, then turned to the sparklings while the caretakers went to see what could be salvaged. "So... what do you kids like to do?"

"Fighting, short-sheet!" Sonar called, dangling from the edge of the pen.

Cliffjumper blinked in surprise, then scowled. "You shouldn't call someone short, shorty."

"I'm not slagging short, I'm _tiny_!" Sonar countered, scowling right back. "That's a difference, you fragger."

"Just ignore him, 'Jumper!" Axel called helpfully over his shoulder, too busy trying to pull a melted piece of what could have been a building block from the wall.

Thankfully, Cliffjumper heeded the advice, and clapped his hands. "Okay, so... fighting!" He smiled widely at the sparklings. "I don't want to brag, but I'm a _great_ fighter."

"Really?" Oasis, the offspring of Hound and Mirage asked, staring in wonderment at the minibot.

"Yup." Cliffjumper pumped up his chest compartment. "I took part in all the battles, and won a lot of fights.

"Wo~~ow." The 'Bot sparklings said, optics wide. The little 'Con stared in doubt.

"If you want, I could tell you about some of them. Ooooor... I could show you a few of my trade moves."

"MOVES!" All sparklings yelled, even the little 'Cons were interested.

"Okay. But first, does any of you know how to fight?" Cliffjumper asked brightly, so sure none of them did, thus he would have a little group of admirers.

Alas, that was not the case.

"I can fight." Smash-It said, cocking his head to the side slightly.

Cliffjumper hesitated, then shrugged. "Then come here, you're gonna help me." It's a little 'Con, he thought, he was probably used to damages. And 'Jumper wouldn't hurt him too much.

The caretakers didn't notice this exchange because they were too busy trying to figure out how to get the bookfiles out of the ceiling.

Smash-It shrugged, and easily stepped out of the pen. He walked over to Cliffjumper, then stared up at him, waiting for instructions.

"Okay, so..." Cliffjumper took a moment to think. "Oh, I know! How about you show me how much you got?"

Smash-It blinked in confusion. "How much what I got?"

"Just hit me as hard as you can."

The youngling frowned uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" Cliffjumper leaned down, and pointed to his cheek. "Right here. Then I'll show you how much I got." He wouldn't, of course. He wasn't one to beat on a kid. Even a 'Con one.

Smash-It still looked uncertain. "But... you're certain?"

"Yeah."

"As hard as I can?"

"Yeah!" Cliffjumper tried very hard not to show his impatience. "Look, don't be scared, you won't hurt me! I'll even turn off my optics, so you'll have the element of surprise."

Second mistake there. The first was giving the youngling permission.

Smash-It blinked slowly. "That doesn't sound too fair."

"Well, you're smaller than me, so that'll give us even odds."

Not exactly what the youngling had in mind.

Still, Smash-It shrugged. "Okay. If you're sure."

"Perfectly sure." Cliffjumper said, then offlined his optics, and waited patiently for the what he thought would be a weak little punch.

Smash-It stared at him a moment more, then unsubspaced his rather large mallet. With a click to a hidden button, three thrusters place along the handle activated, thus adding even more force into the already considerable hit.

Cliffjumper was set flying, stopping only because the wall was kinda in his way. He then crumpled to the floor, in stasis and with a severely dented helm.

The caretakers stared in open-mouthed shock at the youngling.

"What?" Smash-It frowned at them, subspacing his mallet. "He told me to give him everything I had."

.

.

.

.

.

After the caretakers had stopped screaming, it was decided that Cliffjumper should be transported to Sickbay. Immediately.

Fix-It run after the two, because he could always help his Creator. Smash-It went also, partly because the caretakers didn't want to leave him alone with the sparklings, and partly because he was curious just how much damage his mallet had caused on a mech that small. He usually used it on 'Cons much bigger than him, after all.

After a few reassurances that they would be right back, just sit tight and be brave, all the sparklings were left all alone. In a pen. In a pen without a covering grate. And four of them were fliers.

Uh huh, exactly.

It took about .5 breems for all the sparklings to be flown out of the pen, and for Runway to chirp out a cheerful "Let's have some fun!"

A quick sabotage of the door locks via one crafty Sonar who had cataloged all the rooms weak spots while he sat staring earlier, and the sparklings, all of the sparklings, were off.

And, because they couldn't agree on what to play, they separated shortly after.

.

Megatron was having a meeting with Prime, discussing the new improvements to the training area, when he felt a repeated, familiar type of pressure against the plating of... both his pedes?

He looked down, then strongly resisted to urge to faceservo. Great, now the scrapling had a friend.

He leaned down, and gently extracted both sparklings off his pedes, setting the weird dinobot one on the table, and lifting the seekerlet so that their face plates were on the same level.

"Runway." The bratling waved enthusiastically at him. "Took you long enough."

Runway made a face, and started chirping rapidly, probably trying to convey just how boring Autobots were.

Megatron listened to the babble for a moment, then shook the sparkling slightly to quiet him. "Tell me one thing." Runway blinked at him expectantly. "Did _all_ the sparklings escape also?"

Slowly, a wide devious (and slightly evil) grin split the sparkling's face plates.

Megatron almost sighed. Seriously, he would've if he wasn't so used to situations like this.

He activated his comm unit, and used the widespread frequency to make an announcement. "Attention all Decepticons. Sparkling Alert. I repeat, Sparkling Aler, Level 1." He paused briefly. "And Level 2."

He offlined his comm, and stood up. He kept Runway in his servo, letting the little one gnaw on his finger, then nodded at the severely confused Prime. "We should go."

Prime blinked slowly at him. "Is he biting your finger?"

Megatron raised a brow plate. "Your point?"

Prime gaped behind his mask a little, then shook his helm, and stood up. "Never mind." He gathered Sweeplock gently onto his servo. "What's Sparkling Alert?"

"It means the brats are out and wrecking havoc in the base." Megatron explained. "Level 1 is basically 'Search and Retrieve'."

"Ah." Prime thought it better not to question that. "And Level 2?"

A few small explosion sounded from down the corridor.

"'Watch out for bombs'." Megatron deadpanned, marching out of the office.

.

RatBat squeaked in surprise when his oldest sibling leaped at him from the wall. He flapped his little wings, but it was too late – Ravage had already captured him.

One down, five to go.

The feline'Con landed easily onto his pedes, RatBat's little frame hanging from his mouth. He then turned around, and walked towards the Communication Center. Soundwave would be relieved to see his batling.

.

"STOP!" Demolisher yelled, grabbing HotRod, and lifting him high in the air.

The Autobot activated his guns in startlement, but Demolisher wasn't even looking at him. No, he was looking at the tiny blue and green sparkling on the ground.

"Oh, hey Oasis." HotRod said, and Demolisher set him harshly back on the ground.

As the Autobot watched, the large Decepticon lowered himself onto one knee, and smiled at the little one as he gathered her gently onto his servo. "Hello."

"Hi." She chirped, smiling shyly at him.

Demolisher stood up, then glared at the Autobot. "You almost stepped on her."

HotRod blinked. "I did? Oh man, I'm sorry, kiddo. You okay?"

She nodded.

Demolisher still glared. "You have to be more careful. We're on Sparkling Alert." He said matter of factly, then turned and walked away, taking the sparkling with him.

HotRod blinked slowly, then hurried after them. "Hey, dude, wait up!"

.

Wheeljack blinked in confusion when he saw the Insecticons sniffing (there really wasn't a different word to describe it) around the corridor. Suddenly, one of them stiffened, and his helm jerked up. He hurried down the corridor and into one of the washracks.

Wheeljack thought it best to follow after them.

Once he got to the door, he stopped in surprise. There was little DevilDash, sitting in front of a big mirror, and grinning at himself, preening at his shiny plating.

Just like his Creators, that one. But wasn't he supposed to be in DayCare?

The Insecticons moved over to the little one, then gently lifted him onto the back of one of them. Two insect legs bent backwards to keep the sparkling in place, then they all scurried out of the room, leaving a very confused Wheeljack behind.

.

Prowl had to literally jump put of the way when a tiny seekerlet flew rapidly down the corridor, Thrust hot on his tiny thrusters. A moment later, the little flier did a quick barrel roll, and changed directions, heading straight for the Conehead.

Thrust decided it was better to crash into the ceiling then risk a hit with the seekerlet.

Jetstorm chirped gleefully when he 'won', then added a little more force into his thrusters, high-tailing it out of there.

Or he would've, if Thundercracker hadn't caught him before he could leave the corridor.

The adult seeker curled his lip component at his Creation, then looked at the Autobot SIC.

"Prowl." He nodded, then turned around and left. As if this was an everyday occurrence.

Prowl decided maybe they should seriously reconsider this whole truce thing.

.

The last to be found was Sonar. He was found by Bonecrusher, who had followed the trail of exploded door locks and energon dispensers the little one left behind. He eventually arrived at the Labs. He immediately barged inside and stopped Perceptor from testing his latest invention by promptly ripping into the delicate machinery.

Perceptor cried out in outrage, however he shut up when Bonecrusher produced a little white seekerlet from the guts of his machine.

"Check. Twice." Bonecrusher said roughly, then carried the little one out of the Labs.

.

Bonecrusher lumbered into the DayCare, nodding at all the mechs present.

The mechs in question were the Creators of all the sparklings, by the way.

"That'll be the last one." Megatron said, motioning to Bonecrusher to stay. "See, Prime? All is well."

"All is not well!" Ratchet hissed, holding Fix-It by the servo. "Your sparklings are a menace!"

"We tried telling you." Skywarp pointed out, and really, they had.

"Well, you forgot to mention they can kill!"

The Constructicons scowled in offense "First of all, no one asked. Second of all, that idiot is in _stasis_, not offline!"

"And it was provoked!"

"Cliffjumper did tell him to hit him." Springer pointed out.

"I very much doubt he meant 'Hit me in the face with a rocket mallet!'"

"What, you expected us to leave our sparkling unable to protect himself?"

"But a mallet?"

Smash-It shrugged. "It comes in handy."

No one could argue with that.

"Okay, nevermind. How about your kids sabotaging the doors, and escaping?"

"It's just something they do."

"Frequent escape of sparklings: accustomed to."

"Yeah, we don't even bother locking the doors on them."

"Besides, we caught all of them."

"Your sparklings too."

"They escaped because your kids let them out!"

"So?"

"What about all the explosions?"

"Sonar likes the sound."

"So you just let him?"

"Hey, I'm not gonna stop my sparkling from pursuing his interests just because they cause a few damages."

"Explosion, Starscream! Explosions!"

"Really? I hadn't _noticed_."

The adults continued to argue, and Bonecrusher rolled him optics. He sat down heavily against the wall, and unsubspaced on of his fairy-tale bookfiles, activating it. Sonar chirped happily at that, and swiftly climbed onto Bonecrusher's helm, peering down at the holo.

The other sparklings, seeing this, crawled over to sit around the large Decepticon, listening intently as Bonecrusher started to read slowly.

The adults had quieted down when they noticed it was story time, and turned to stare at the uncommon sight. Well, the Autobots stared. The Decepticons took this as a sign to leave the DayCare, and return to their duties.

Megatron turned to Prime, and smirked smugly at him. "See, Prime? It's _that_ easy."

Prime blinked slowly. "You're saying this will keep them from escaping?"

"Oh, no, they'll still try. I'm saying it's better to have somemech around that _knows_ what to _do_." That said, Megatron turned on his pede, and left.


	10. PreHuman Meeting

**Pre-Human Meeting**

The next step of integrating the Decepticons into everyday coexistence was obvious – introduce them to the humans.

Needless to say, both leaders knew it could get ugly very quickly.

So, to prevent that happening, Prime decided to have a special meeting with the Decepticons. The 'Cons were told a little about each human expected on the base, including name, age, and summarized bio. The plan for the visit was presented with minute detail, all questions were answered immediately, and as carefully as possible.

All in all, Optimus felt the Decepticons were ready to meet the humans. Or they would be, with one last thing.

"I would also like for you all to be on your best behavior."

The Decepticons gave each other long sidelong glances. Somehow, they doubted their 'best behavior' was what Prime had in processor. Pit, their best behavior entitled not offlining somemech while they were having a brawl in the middle of the corridor.

Optimus seemed to sense he wasn't exactly reaching the Decepticons, but he was positive they would sort themselves out. But, just to be sure he turned to the Overlord. "Would you like to add anything?"

Megatron gave him a long contemplating look, then shook his helm in exasperation. Honestly, he had to deal with everything himself.

"Alright, listen up!" he said loudly, and the Decepticons sat up, listening intently. "Because of the humans, I'm going to implement new rules. No squishing them, no stomping them, no shooting them, no scaring them, no scarring them, no eating them." He waited a klik for his troops to process that. "Any questions?"

"What if they get scared even if we're not threatening them?"

Megatron blinked in thought, then turned to Prime, cause he honestly didn't know.

Prime cleared his vocalizer. "That's fine. Just... try not to... do any of those things on purpose."

"What if we step on them? By accident?"

Megatron answered that. "To prevent situations like that, all pedes are on Sparkling Alert." Cause if anything taught the Decepticons to watch their steps, it were those little fraggers playing under their pedes.

Prime looked at the Overlord in surprise, but decided it was best not to comment on that. "Also, I wanted to ask you all not to be rude to the humans."

The Decepticons blinked as one, Megatron included.

Prime resisted the urge to sigh. "Don't insult them."

Megatron scoffed. "Aren't you expecting a little too much here, Prime?"

Prime thought about that for a moment, then conceded the point. "At least keep it to a minimum."

"Fine." Megatron turned back to the troops. "Insults to a minimum, later today you'll get a list of mechs who won't be allowed to speak _at all_." A pause. "Get the Pit back to your duties."

Thus dismissed, the Decepticons went.


	11. Meet the 'Cons

AN: Sorry for the long wait, but I had serious problems with this one. Not one of my best in my opinion, but I hope you like it anyway.

**Meet the 'Cons**

Finally came the day when the humans came over to the Ark to see for themselves that Decepticons weren't a danger to humanity anymore. On the initial meeting many questions were asked – about the truce, about the living arrangements, about the weapons and other dangerous items in Decepticon possession.

Then, one question arose that was difficult to explain.

"Why are their optics still red?"

The Autobots attempted to explain in a calm and rational manner. That the 'Cons hadn't defected, thus weren't Autobots. That the optic color was a permanent fixture of mechs, similarly to human eyes. That even if a 'Con would want to do so, changing the optic color was a difficult and painful procedure. Each answer was argued against, the humans apparently feeling that if the optics are still red, then the Decepticons are still out to get them.

The argument was brought to a halt by one fed-up Starscream.

"It's our mold, you idiot." he said stiffly, his wings twitching in annoyance.

Megatron offlined his optics briefly, while Thundercracker simply looked at his wingmate.

"Your- what?"

"Our mold. The way we were _sparked_." Starscream hissed venomously. "Do humans change their eye color on a whim?"

"No, because we're born this way."

"And what do you think 'being sparked this way' _means_?" This was said in a tone that clearly questioned the humans' intelligence.

The humans started looking slightly apologetic. "Look, we didn't mean to offend-"

"But you still did. I believe an apt comparison would be if you asked one of the darker humans to change their skin color to 'fit in' better."

The human blinked, their eyes wide. Prime leveled a warning look at the seeker. Any Autobot would revert into a scolded sparkling at that look, shuffling their pedes in embarrassment.

Any _Autobot_, that is. The only thing that could make the Seeker back down was a fusion cannon in the facial plates, and even that not always worked. And Megatron was enjoying this situation too much to activate his.

Starscream snorted. "But of course, you humans are to be forgiven for every blunder you make towards us, because you _don't know better_. Nevermind that we had to learn all your customs not to offend _you_, but you are to be forgiven _everything_, on what grounds I don't even care to know."

"We apologise. Really, truly apologise."

Starscream sneered. "Don't bother apologizing. That slag only works on Autobots."

The humans looked amongst themselves, trying to come up with a suitable way to alleviate the situation. Starscream, however, was already bored of the humans, so he turned on his pede, and made his way back to the labs without even a goodbye.

Megatron cleared his vocalizer. "I think it's safe to say this meeting is adjourned." Taking this as a dismissal, the other Decepticons left the room.

Prime blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Yes. I think we'll give our guests the tour of the base now."

While the Autobots started herding the humans in the planned direction, Prime turned to the Overlord. "Well. That wasn't that bad, was it?" Because really, Starscream could be much louder and much more insulting when he wanted to.

Megatron leveled a look at the other leader. "Hold that thought."

.*~*.

Most of the tour went without a hitch. The reason for re-building the RecRoom had to be kept secret of course, mostly because the Autobots doubted the humans really needed to know about the brawl that had trashed the entire room.

There were some problems, though.

One was encountered when the tour arrived at the Medical Wing. More precisely, while Prowl was explaining the need to have two separate medical rooms, the door to the RepairBay melted.

Quite literally.

"Hey." The Constructicons waved at the tour. "Our aim was off."

"So I see." Megatron muttered, more than used to situations like this.

"What parameters did you use?" Ironhide asked, eying the device the 'Cons were standing by.

"Standard achiomatic." Scavenger answered.

"Achiomatic? Did you _fry_ your _circuits_?" Ironhide pushed past the group and walked into the Repairbay. "With this gravitation and room diameters you need to use neulagistics."

"If we wanna build a death-ray." Scrapper snorted. "This is supposed to be a laser-drill for the scientists."

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is that neulagistics break down molecules." Hook motioned to the PADD he held. "Standard achiomatic is the best choice."

"Maybe, but not with _this_ built! This is a weapon alignment, besides achiomatic will never work in this type of gravitation anyhow."

Whatever Hook's response was, it was lost when Megatron closed the doors.

"Shall we move on?"

.*~*.

Another awkward moment happened, when Reflector run past the group at top speed, screaming about incoming annihilation.

Said annihilation was in the form of little Sonar crawling after the Cons.

Megatron grabbed the seekerling, and placed him atop his head, then turned to Prime. "I propose we stop by the Day Care."

Explaining why Bonecrusher was in charge of story time was another awkward conversation.

.*~*.

Yells and screams were the precursor to yet another hitch of the day. In the middle of Training Hall 3 were the Lambo Twins and Skywarp, quite vigorously trying to rip each other to shreds.

While the fighters were being separated, one of the humans turned to the Decepticon SIC watching the battle. "Does this happen often?"

"Most of the time, yes." Thundercracker answered.

"Why live together then?"

"Because our leaders decided we should co-exist in close proximity so as to encourage fraternization and discourage mutual mutilation."

"Then why are they-"

"Encourage, not enforce." Was the curt reply, in a tone that definitely ended the conversation.

Meanwhile, Prime was busy reprimanding the fighters.

"Is this what you would call your 'best behavior'?"

The Lambo Twins shuffled their pedes, while Skywarp shrugged. "They're still in one piece, ain't they?"

Megatron just tapped his fingers against his arm cannon.

Skywarp blinked, then slumped. "Toothbrush duty again?"

"Corridors C-F."

"Yes, sir." The seeker turned to the Lambos. "Come on, I'll show you what to do."

"But we don't use toothbrushes." Sideswipe pointed out.

Skywarp grabbed the Twins' arms and started pulling them along. "They're human toothbrushes. Just shut up and move your afts."

The fighters filed out, two rather confused, one just resigned.

The tour managed to be finished without a hitch after that. Well, if you count out the screaming match in the Science Labs, but both sides decided it was best to just leave the geniuses alone.


	12. Giving Reports

AN: one joor is about seven hours.

**Giving Reports**

"You want to what?" Megatron asked with a raised eye ridge, staring at the Autobot leader.

Prime, for his part, didn't even look sheepish. "I would like to listen in on your faction's reports."

"Is this connected to you telling me to sit through the Autobot reports?"

"Yes. We've discussed this, remember? I assumed that-"

"'This would be a wonderful opportunity to learn of the differences between our two factions', I remember." Megatron waved his servo dismissively. "I thought you were joking."

"Why would you think that?"

"Considering I had an extremely hard time remaining online while your 'Bots droned on and on, I believed your idea to be an elaborate prank. Quite cruel, too."

"I thought those presentations were rather well thought out."

"I wouldn't know, I stopped listening five kliks in."

Optimus blinked, and refrained from commenting on that. "Then am I to assume you do not wish for me to listen in?"

"Do whatever you want."

"I would like to accompany you."

A snort. "Fine, whatever." With that, Megatron turned on his heel and left. Optimus blinked, then followed after.

.*~*.

When the two arrived at Megatron's office, Thundercracker was already waiting.

"Sir. Prime." The seeker nodded at them, a pile of PADDs in his servos.

"Got everything?" Megatron asked, seating himself in his chair, Prime taking the spot slightly behind him. You know – so that he wouldn't distract the Decepticons from their reports.

Thundercracker still send him a calculating look.

"Ignore Prime, he's gonna be observing today."

Thundercracker made a low, thoughtful noise. He stared at the Autobot a little longer, then deposited the PADDs onto the Overlord's desk.

Megatron started picking them up, looking through them. "Anything to say?" he asked absently.

"Nothing of importance."

"Morale?"

"High, considering. There were some friction between the troops and the Autobots, but Prowl and I have managed to diffuse them before someone got offlined."

"Excellent. Anything else?"

"Battle efficiency has dropped. I recommend more training sessions to pick up the lack."

"Where are the weak points?"

"Several places, mostly with the Triplechangers."

"Send them on a drive and tell them to blow something up, that usually relaxes them. Then order twenty additional joors of training, thirty for the Triplechangers. Rotate the teams and geographical conditions."

"Yes, sir." Thundercracker nodded, and left.

Prime blinked at the rather short exchange. "That's all?"

"With him, yeah." Megatron answered, optics still glued to the pads.

Odd, considering Optimus' meeting with Prowl took three hours, his Second's report being rather detailed. "What if there is a situation he forgot to mention?"

Megatron turned around and sent Prime a baleful look. "He's not a sparkling, Prime. He doesn't need me to hold his servo while dealing with the troops."

"Well, what if you'll need to know something?"

"I don't need to know everything, Prime. Saves me the processor ache."

Prime blinked. "Oh."

.*~*.

The next in the line was the TIC/Communication Specialist/Spy-bots Commander – Soundwave.

The doors opened, and in he came. Or, to be more precise, he stepped aside and allowed the Cassetticons to scramble inside.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw flew straight for the Overlord. They settled on his shoulders, accepting the download cables without complaint. Ravage jumped onto the desk, and settled himself comfortably to the side, moving only to assist the Overlord in plugging him up to the console the flying Cassettes were uploaded to.

As the data from the three was downloading into a separate PADD, Soundwave handed in his own report, then stood back as the Twins climbed onto the desk.

"Yo, Big Boss!" Rumble greeted the Overlord, bowing slightly.

Frenzy scrambled to his pedes next to his brother. "We got the info you wanted all nicely done."

"In a PADD too!" Both twins grinned.

"Where is it?" Megatron asked, glancing up briefly from the file Soundwave had handed him.

"Give it, bro." Rumble nudged his twin, only to be pushed back.

"You were supposed to bring it."

"No, I wasn't. I compiled the data!"

"No, you didn't, I did all the research!"

"So? Not like I was sitting there with my thumbs up my aft."

"You were watching human porn!"

"It was part of the research!"

"How is watching two humans hump in a car research?"

"How is it not?"

"...you know, you might be right. Hey, Big Boss, can we come back later? We should include this too."

"Human pornography in vehicles: not compatible with the subject of human-Decepticon interactions." Soundwave pointed out in his usual droning tone.

Megatron snorted his agreement, while the Twins tried to argue their point.

Prime gaped quietly in his seat.

.*~*.

Next was Bonecrusher. He lumbered into the room, and stood eagerly in front of the Overlord's desk.

Megatron stared at him expectantly.

After a few moments, Bonecrusher grinned proudly. "I wrote the report all by myself."

Megatron took the PADD, nodding. "Congratulations."

Bonecrusher continued grinning.

"You want to summarize the data?"

The large 'Con looked upwards, thinking. "Um. Twenty-eight fights, thirty-three escape attempts aaaaaand... nine attempts of assassination"

"Only nine?"

"I was kinda surprised too."

Prime thought it prudent to ask for clarification by this point. "Excuse me. _Assassinations_?"

Bonecrusher blinked at him. "Jetstorm gets bored easily."

"Don't worry so much, Prime." Megatron said, turning briefly to the other leader. "He's still a sparkling, the attempts aren't really serious."

Prime did not find that reassuring.

Before the next Decepticon could come to give his report, Skywarp barged into the room.

"I did not put a ton of lard in the Insecticons' nest, no matter what Shrapnel says." he said, then run back out.

A few seconds later, the enraged Insecticons run past the still open door, chasing after the seeker.

Megatron turned calmly back to the reports.

.*~*.

Hook arrived a few minutes later. He walked swiftly to the desk, and deposited two PADDs.

"This is the medical report, and this is weapons. Now I gotta go, we're in the middle of recalibrating the laser detonator in the astrobomb." He paused. "If you hear a very loud explosion, that'll be us."

"If you blow up the Ark, you'll be in sole charge of repairing it." Megatron said, then dismissed the Constructicon with a wave of his servo.

Optimus, meanwhile, was currently thinking very hard on how exactly the Decepticon faction operates.

.*~*.

"Megatron?"

"If this is another asinine comment on how I run my faction, Prime, save it."

"No, no. I was just wondering how many reports are still left."

"Just one."

"Oh. ...could it be possible to ask him to maybe be more detailed in his presentation?"

Megatron gave him a calculating look.

"I would really appreciate that."

"Fine, but you ask him."

"Of course. Who is it, may I ask?"

"Starscream."

"It won't be a problem for him, I hope?"

Megatron snorted. "Oh, I'm sure he'll manage."

.*~*.

Seven joors later, Starscream _finally_ stopped talking. Prime continued staring at him in a mix of wonder and doesn't-he-need-intakes-at-_all_? Megatron blinked at the lull in the noise levels, and looked up from the entertainment file he had been reading.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"Pretty much." A pause. "No, wait, I still have the calculations I performed last week on the planets of the Solar System."

"Carry on." Megatron said, and returned to his file.

.*~*.

A joor later.

"Are you done now?"

"Yes."

"Are you satisfied, Prime?"

Awed/shocked silence.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. Starscream, get the frag out of here before I shoot you."

Starscream nodded and went.

Megatron turned off his personalized PADD, and turned his chair around so that he could face Prime. He took in the Autobot leader's expression, then reached into one of his desk drawers. He took out his container of vintage high-grade energon, and poured them both a cube.

"Here." He thrust one at Prime, then took a sip. "Next time, don't ask for details."

Prime nodded weakly, taking a long swing of the high-grade.


	13. HighGrade Consequences

**High-Grade Consequences**

Megatron blinked his aching optics on. He stared unseeingly for a few moments, then his vision protocols settled enough to lock on the facial plates staring down at him.

"Starscream." he muttered, the sound of his own vocalizer grating on his audios.

"My Lord." The seeker's voice wasn't helping much either. And the fact he was standing by the Overlord's helm, which basically made Megatron look at him upside down, only helped to muddle his processor more.

Megatron did a quick calculation of his current state. He ached, he had trouble forming thoughts, and his system analysis made it clear he wasn't going to be standing any time soon. Plus, he had a rather large hole in his memory files.

"I got drunk, didn't I?" he asked lowly, already knowing the answer.

"Yup."

Megatron turned his optics off, preferring one small ache less at the moment. "And what did I do?" The state of his processor indicated he had drunk a lot, and that usually meant he then had done something he would prefer his army not to know.

Starscream cocked his head to the side, pretending to think. "Well, from the look of things, I'd say you fragged Prime."

Ruby optics snapped open. "What?" It came out clipped, voice tight.

Starscream flicked his optics to the side, then back meaningfully. Megatron wasn't processor-addled enough not to get the hint, and forced his head to lift and turn to the side.

There lay Prime, sprawled on his side, unconscious and covered in scratches flecked with silver paint.

Damn it to the Unmaker and back.

Megatron offlined his optics again, and let his helm fall back onto the ground he was sprawled out upon, relaxing back onto the hard surface. "Eh, what the hell. We're at peace and all that." he muttered, relaxing back onto the hard surface, his processor slowing in preparation for recharge.

"Hasn't sunk in yet, huh?" Starscream asked in that annoyingly amused rasp of his.

Megatron muttered noncommittally.

"You are aware I'm going to tell my trine all about this, right?"

Megatron made a valiant effort to lift his fusion cannon.

"I get the picture, my Lord. Nap well."

Yeah, whatever. He'll deal with this later, when he could think again.

Starscream watched as the Overlord slipped back into slumber, then grinned to himself. Oh, this was gonna be good.


	14. Morning After, Autobot Style

AN: I got a few reviews wondering about the 'morning after' or, more specifically, Prime's reaction. Here it is.

**The Morning After, Autobot Style**

"Megatron, did we really...?"

"Frag the slag out of each other while drunk off our afts?"

"...not the way I would put it, but yes."

"We did."

"Oh, Primus. What should we do?"

"Well, I am going to take a shower, then read those reports. I don't care what you do."

Prime stared after him, then blinked. "Huh?"

.*~*.

"Megatron, could we talk?"

"About?"

"About what happened between us."

"Why, you want a repeat?"

"I- what?"

"Do. You want. A repeat."

"Ummm... I'll come back later."

.*~*.

"Megatron, if I could have a moment of your time, please?"

"What do you want?"

"About last night."

"You still on about that?"

"Well, yes."

"Too bad. I'm busy, Prime, go away."

Prime went

.*~*.

Several hours later, Megatron stopped in the middle of the corridor, and whirled around, glaring at the Autobot. Seriously, enough was enough.

"For Primus' sake, Prime." he hissed, seething. "We fragged, end of story, _deal with it_."

Optimus blinked, then tried again. "I just think we should discuss this."

"And you really want to do this here, with three idiots listening in from behind that corner."

Said three winced, and stepped hesitantly from their hiding place.

"How'd you know we were there?" one of them felt brave enough to ask.

"I have audios, and you three apparently don't know the meaning of the word 'quiet'."

Optimus frowned at the mechs. "I wasn't aware of them."

"Then maybe you should go visit that Medic of yours."

"We on tooth-brush duty?" One of them, a Decepticon, asked.

"Indeed you are."

"Well, which corridors?"

"Brush till you drop." Megatron snarled, then turned to the Autobot leader. "I'll be in my office, if you still want to waste time _talking._"

With that, he turned on his ped, and walked away.

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AN: Well, I gotta admit, I'm currently running out of ideas for this series, and I'd really not want it to be dead. So, how about **you guys tell me what you would like to see**.

You know, new stuff that the Decepticons could play with, or new areas where you think the differences between Autobot and Decepticon that would be funny. Or even which sparklings you would like to see again. I'm gonna write a chapter for little Sonar, so please don't ask for him.


	15. Favortie Things

AN: Wow, how late is this chapter? No seriously, how long has it been? A year? Two?

A thousand apologies for the delay, but like I mentioned last chapter, my muse kinda flopped on me, despite all your wonderful ideas. Hopefully, I'll manage a chapter or two more before it dies down again. Keep your fingers crossed.

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**Favorite Things**

"Why do you talk so much?"

Fix-It closed his mouth with a click, blinking in surprise at the question. "I don't talk much. My Creator says I'm sometimes not very talkative at all."

Smash-It didn't look up from the machine he was assembling. "Nonetheless, you haven't stopped asking me questions and talking since you joined me."

"I was just making conversation." Fix-It explained, staring at Smash-It. "Don't Decepticons have conversations?"

"Sure we do. Just not about things like 'what's your favorite color'."

"Don't you have favorite colors? Or favorite things in general."

Smash-It finally looked up from the machine, and gave Fix-It a 'duh' look. "Everybot has a favorite something."

"Okay, but you don't talk about it?"

"Nope."

"How come?"

"Because it's a waste of time and an unnecessary risk."

"...huh?"

Smash-It sighed in exasperation. "If you tell bots what your favorite things are, a mech you pissed off could use it to get to you."

Fix-It shook his helm. "I don't understand."

"Fine, I'll give you an example. You like Energon Cookies. You tell it to somemech, and a bot you pissed off could overhear it and then use it to get revenge. Like, you go to the Mess Hall for some cookies, and that bot's already eaten all of them. So no Energon Cookies for you and revenge is had all around."

Fix-It thought it over, then nodded. "I guess that makes sense. But I try not to... 'piss mechs off'. Won't that make a difference?"

"One thing I know for sure, is that no matter what you do, somemech is always going to get pissed off. Most often a seeker. Hand me that screwdriver."

Fix-It picked up the tool. "That's sad."

"That's life."

"No, I mean... not sharing anything about yourself. Doesn't that mean nomech knows anything about you?"

Smash-It shrugged. "We like it that way."

Fix-It thought it over. "What about your Creators? What do you talk about with them?"

"The usual. My day, my studies, my health. The progress on my latest machine. My latest fight."

"What about your favorite things? Do you talk about them?"

"I already told you we don't talk about stuff like that. We only talk about important things."

"Your likes and dislikes aren't important?"

"They're inconsequential. In the end, nobody truly cares what you like or don't like."

"That sucks. How else are your Creators supposed to know anything about you if you don't tell them?"

Smash-It looked up with a glare. "My Creators don't _need_ to be _told_ slag. They watch me, they see me, they know me." He turned back to his machine. "I don't need to say anything and they already know."

"What about your friends, then?"

"If a bot is really my friend, he will take the time to find out what I like on his own, without my having to tell him. I do the same for him."

"...Oh."

Smash-It eyed Fix-It for a moment more, than turned back to his machine. "Decepticons don't talk about stuff like that. We learn it anyway." He muttered firmly, then sat back. "And I'm done."

Fix-It leaned forward, staring at it. "What is it?"

"An Energon Chip Cookie dispenser." Smash-It pushed a button, and the machine whirled. The side opened, and a tray of cookies slid out. "Have one."

Fix-It did, munching happily. "Thanks. They're my favorite."

"I know." Smash-It popped a cookie into his mouth, then stood. He unsubspaced his large mallet and promptly smashed it into the machine.

Fix-It jumped back. "Why'd you do that for?!"

Smash-It grabbed a screwdriver and sat back down. "I learned how to build it. Now I gotta learn how to fix it."

Fix-It stared at him for a moment. "Decepticons are weird."

"No weirder than you Autobots. Hand me that wrench."

Fix-It did.

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AN 2: I know, I know, not so much with the humor this time. Still, I think this is a nice look into the cultural differences between Autobots and Decepticons.

Oh, and in my headcanon, Fix-It and Smash-It are about10 years old. Possibly 11, not that sure.


End file.
